The And in the End
by freiheitfuehlen
Summary: This is set sometime after 'Another Ham Sandwich' without any particular spoilers. It's centering on Alicia with mentions of A/P and A/W.


**A/N: ** Me, again. I know. New day, new story. This is about Alicia. I do feel she has been a bit underappreciated by….a lot of people, including me. You know the drill, read and review.

**The And in the End**

"_There's a hole in my pocket for the stars to fall out. I lose them one at a time. I didn't notice when they hit the ground."_

There was a knock on the door. It was soft, almost raspy as if the intruder of Alicia's chosen isolation was aware of the silence and solitude she needed on those weekends when the kids were at Peter's. Alicia rose from the spot, setting the glass of red wine onto the coffee table and silencing the sound of the television she was only half following anyway. She brought the strings of her woolen jacket to the front and tied them together.

It was almost ten pm on a Friday night and Alicia could count the people who would show up that late on one hand without even using all of her five fingers. It meant work, she knew and the prospect did not sound appealing to her, at all. Not today, she admitted. Not now.

There was a second knock as Alicia walked towards the door and for a moment she thought she should have called out to whoever was on the other side of this door that she was coming. Alicia hesitated just a second too long, she guessed, some part of her hoping that her reluctance to open would shy away the person knocking on her door. Maybe it was guilt or the sheer, omnipresent sense of responsibility she could not seem to shed like a snake was able to lose its skin.

And when Alicia did open the door and smelled his perfume before she saw him she wished she had not opened the door at all. His name ran off her tongue with hints of sadness, disappointment and anger and for a moment she could see his posture falter and his eyes grow distant in the dim light of the hall and just this once she was glad to see him feel some of the emotions which had been accompanying her every moment for the last three years. It was petty, Alicia knew but she believed she was entitled to feel exactly that way after everything that had happened.

"Alicia." Although the sound of her name being called in exactly the same way it had been for years there was an ever growing distance between them and what once was close and familiar only sounded vague and cold nowadays, at least to her ears.

Alicia did not move, did not open the door further to invite him in. Why? She was not sure. She seemed paralyzed by what exactly she had no clue. No clue at all.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," Alicia replied quietly, merely above a whisper and stepped aside to let him enter the apartment he had once lived in but never belonged.

Alicia closed the door and walked into the kitchen to grab another glass. She had the feeling they would need alcohol to get through the awkwardness of being in the same room without being anything anymore, albeit being legally married.

"Do you love him?"

Alicia haltered in her tracks, taken aback by his unusual bluntness; his lack of poker face in a game that never was supposed to be a gamble in the first place.

She turned around, crossing her arms in front of her chest, shielding herself from his silent accusations.

"No."

It was the truth. She did not love Will. Alicia was in no place to love anyone at all, except for her children. And Owen, of course. Was she in love with Will? Probably, but if she went by the feelings she had for him and the never changing attraction and romance between them then she feared she had never not been in love with him at all. Surely that was an admission she was not willing to share with anyone, especially Peter.

"Then why?"

He did not have to finish this particular question. The implications ran through the room like a third person, obnoxious and demanding.

"Peter."

"No." There was a short pause before he continued, locking eyes with her and taking a step towards Alicia he put one hand on her forearm. "No, Alicia. Do you love me?"

If Alicia had not been standing so close to him and been able to smell his breath she would have thought he had had something to drink, admitting truth and laying his heart out there for everyone – or her mostly, to stomp on in a way he rarely ever did. Right then, Alicia felt sorry for him and bit down on her lower lip to keep herself from telling him so. Peter used pity – he always had, and Alicia certainly was not going play this game or any game with him; not anymore.

She took a step back, losing contact with his hand that had touched her forearm only moments ago.

"Peter." When he started to interrupt her again, she held up a hand signaling that it was her time to speak.

"Of course I do, Peter. I will always love you. You are the father of my children and the only husband I have ever had. I will always love you. But I'm not in love with you anymore and I've never been foolish enough to believe that I'd be in love with you for the rest of my life and I was always okay with that. Marriage isn't just about romance, it's a partnership built on trust, support and faith. I'll always support you because of our kids but I don't trust you and I don't have faith in you changing. Not anymore. I love you but I don't want to be your partner anymore. Please, let's just do _this_ right for Zach and Grace."

Peter nodded his head in silent agreement if for nothing else but his attempt to not push her away any further than he already had. When he turned around to head towards the door and into the cold Chicago night, he stopped just lightly after the threshold and spoke quietly with a sincerity Alicia had not heard in a long time.

"I still love you exactly the same."

Alicia stood there, even after the elevator had long since reached the bottom floor and taken Peter with it. She closed the door and sighed.

"Yeah but I have never betrayed you the way you have betrayed me."

Her cell rang and Alicia was startled from her reverie. She reached for it where it sat on the shelf beside the door and as she read the caller ID she thought she really needed another glass of wine.

_Will._

The end.


End file.
